


Better Than His Dreams

by DesertVixen



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen
Summary: Jacob Kowalski's bakery has a visitor





	Better Than His Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinlizzy2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/gifts).



It was a good thing that bakers had to rise early, Jacob Kowalski mused as he smothered a yawn, since he wasn’t getting much sleep anyway.

The bakery – his bakery, his dream that had sustained him in the factory – had become a reality, thanks to the suitcase of odd silver pieces he had received from an anonymous benefactor, pieces that looked suspiciously like eggshells. He had heard of the goose that laid the golden egg, but a whole flock of geese that laid silver eggs was new to him. 

Jacob loved running the bakery, loved baking and decorating, training his assistants, interacting with his customers. He loved all of it. 

He tended to brush off the inquiries about where his ideas came from. It was true enough that they came to him in dreams, but they were no ordinary dreams. They were a jumble of fanstastical creatures he’d never seen but tried to imitate in his work – especially the blue and purple winged snake. And not just the creatures – the winged snake, the majestic bird, the extra-lumpy rhino with no horn, the one that resembled a mop with huge eyes when you could see it – but the people. It was the people that made him not want to share the details. Jacob was pretty sure these dreams would qualify him for a trip to Bellevue.

The woman with dark hair who dressed quite severely – until she hadn’t been.

The man with untidy blond hair and shabby blue overcoat, with his British accent.

The really strange looking man with white hair who had melted out of another man.

And the curvy blonde woman he associated with the best strudel he had ever had. Somehow, Jacob had the idea that he’d seen what she wore under her dark dresses, that he knew what her lips felt like against his.

The woman who strongly reminded him of one of his regular customers. Jacob felt like Queenie lit up the whole shop when she came in – not just because she was lovely, but because she was friendly and bubbly. He made the time to talk to all of his customers – after all, he wanted them to feel welcome to come back – but he looked forward to her visits. They always chatted about baking, and he enjoyed watching her sample his latest pastries.

As much as he enjoyed interacting with customers, Jacob loved the early morning quiet of his bakery. Once he had the more basic items, such as breads, safely in the oven, he could work on his more artistic creations. Today he was experimenting with crisp delicate cookies, dusted with blue and purple colored sugar. It was a new recipe, and Jacob was looking forward to seeing how Queenie liked them.

It was an ordinary day – moderately busy but not so busy he couldn’t enjoy dealing with his customers. Jacob was keeping an eye out for Queenie, but it was almost time to close the bakery when she finally came in.

She wasn’t alone.

She was accompanied by a man with untidy blond hair and shabby blue overcoat who looked around the shop as if he were fascinated. He seemed particularly taken by the puffy lumpy-rhino pastries Jacob had made and stuffed with fruit.

Jacob couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew them, that they were important to him. 

Queenie held out a paper bag to him. “I brought some of my best strudel for you to try,” she said with a lovely smile. 

It was something of a role reversal, but Jacob figured it couldn’t hurt. The strudel was delicious, flaky and perfectly spiced, simply irresistible. He had a flash of memory, of strudel ingredients floating in the air as Queenie wove them together into a perfect baked treat. It was impossible, but Jacob knew it was true, just as he knew his name was Jacob Kowalski.

Jacob looked at the man, realizing that he knew his name – which also should have been impossible, since he couldn’t remember meeting him before, until he took another bite…and remembered more.

“Newt Scamander?” Jacob questioned. “Is it really you?”

Newt nodded, grinned.

Jacob turned to Queenie. “Queenie?” Suddenly, he could remember standing in the rain as she kissed him, only to have her disappear.

She beamed at him. “Welcome back, Jacob.”

*** 

He had scarcely enjoyed a dinner more. The woman with dark hair – Tina – had given Newt and Queenie a long-suffering look, but had welcomed him warmly enough. This time he wasn’t so befuddled by his recent introduction to the fact that there were indeed witches among them, and could actually absorb some of it. He particularly enjoyed the little kitchen magics, and could see how they saved time. He could certainly appreciate that now.

The roast chicken and potatoes were the best he’d ever had, and Jacob was glad he had brought a selection of pastries from the shop to go along with it. It was quiet and homey, so much better than his own lonely apartment over his shop.

Halfway through dinner, Newt cleared his throat. 

“We were wondering if you would be able to get away from your shop for a bit,” Newt asked.

“I’m sure I could. After a year, my assistants are pretty good,” Jacob said slowly. “Why?”

“Tina and I would like for you to come to England for our wedding. I would be honored if you would stand up with me.”

“I would be honored,” Jacob replied with a smile.

*** 

“It’s a nice night for a walk,” Queenie said after everyone had eaten and talked over wedding plans, while the dishes washed themselves.

“How will you get back home alone though?” He had no problem at all with a moonlight walk, but safety could be an issue in the city.

Queenie smiled at him. “I have my own defenses, you know.”

That she did, he remembered. So they set out on a moonlit walk. His bakery and flat were not too far away, and he marveled that magic could be going on practically under his nose without him guessing. He had only been pulled into everything by accident, being at the right place at the right time – even if it had seemed wrong at the time.

“It’s all so incredible,” he said softly. Queenie turned her head to look at him. “I’m glad you let me back into your world.”

“I would never have kicked you out,” she said, eyes flashing. “That’s why I did what I did. I couldn’t bear the thought of you forgetting me.”

“I couldn’t forget you,” he said softly.

“I hear things are different in England,” Queenie said after a long moment. “They call non-magic people Muggles, but there’s not so much separation. People mix.”

“It could be interesting,” he agreed. The thought of a nice long ocean voyage with Queenie was a pleasant one.

The sight of the bakery was less than welcome. Jacob could have walked all night with Queenie, pretending there was no one else in the world.

“Come see the bakery,” he invited.

*** 

He enjoyed seeing her in his space, watching her poke into the different parts of the bakery, sniffing at spices and breaking off a piece of brown sugar to pop in her mouth. 

“I’d love to watch you work,” she said. “Your pastries are incredible.”

“It’s a little late,” he said apologetically. It was really too late to fire up the ovens, to make a mess that would have his assistants wondering if the boss was crazy.

“I could stay until morning,” Queenie said with a mischievous smile, stepping closer to him.

He kissed her, taking her in his arms.

She kissed him, sliding her arms around his neck.

It was better than his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I assume they're going to do something to bring him back in with the group, and a bespelled strudel seemed like the way to go!


End file.
